


Run Boy Run, This World is Not Made For You

by SpectralScathath



Category: RWBY
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mercury is also in a bad way but differently, Oscar's in a bad way you guys, spoilers for rwby vol8 chapter4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27773389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpectralScathath/pseuds/SpectralScathath
Summary: Grown men shouldn't beat up kids. Mercury knows that in his bones.Spoilers for RWBY Volume 8: "Fault".
Comments: 12
Kudos: 164





	Run Boy Run, This World is Not Made For You

Hazel had left the room. 

Mercury stayed perched in the alcove he'd lodged himself into, the Grimm muscle pulsing around him as he used the flesh and sludge to hide where he could in this place. When fighting and running failed, Mercury fell back on hiding. 

He dropped down, boots silent despite their weight as he took quick, quiet steps into the room, just to see what all the fuss was about. Emerald was being boring and horndogging after Cinder with her fucked-up mommy issues, and Mercury knew better than to stay in any public areas in case Tyrian got bored and wanted to play a rousing round of 'pick on Mercury'. Fuck that shit.

He slipped in, the smell of blood and vomit hitting his nose. A luckier man would have flinched. Mercury barely registered it. He studied the tiny form in a fuck-ugly green jacket, the kid's back to him. 

That was the kid from Haven. The Ozpin kid. 

He noticed the kid was shaking at the same time he heard tiny whimpers, and it rang in his ears with too much familiarity. 

_ a ring with a ram's head insignia, a fist with a missing finger, knuckles gnarled and knobbled like tree bark- _

_ "you think you can talk back to me, boy?" _

_ pain blooming in his eye, something cracking in his cheek- _

Mercury shook his head and walked over out of morbid curiosity, prowling around the kid like a hungry dog slank around free food, suspicious of a catch. 

The kid was in bad shape. His skin swollen and mottled with an ugly rainbow of bruises, one eye swollen shut and his nose crunched in like some kind of fucked-up bulldog, weeping blood and snot all over his face. His arms and legs were curled tight, gangly childish limbs pulled close to protect the squishy bits of the body, but he wasn't curled so tight into a ball. Mercury clocked the broken ribs from that alone, the way each breath wheezed and hitched extra confirmation. 

The kid wasn't crying.

Not for lack of trying, however.

One eye was scrunched shut, tears clumped on the lashes as each attempt at a heaving sob turned into a reedy whistle, unable to get the air in for a real cry, unable to get it out either. Vomit coated the boys front, like he'd been hit in the stomach enough to empty his guts. Probably had, knowing Hazel's hits. 

_ the heavy swing of leather before a metal buckle cracked against his forearm, thrown up in desperation- _

_ a growl. an insult. a vice-like grip on his wrist, grinding the bones together until it hurt, wrenching his arm down out of the way- _

_ skin split on his jaw, down to bloodied bone- _

Mercury gritted his teeth, shoving away memories of a boy's voice, high and too young, whimpering and apologising for a broken rule that he didn't know existed until Dad said he'd fucked up. He'd been so fucking weak back then. Pathetic.

Eventually crying had turned to anger, and Mercury had gotten bigger, started yelling back, hitting back. Dad hadn't liked that. 

His legs  _ ached _ even though there was nothing there that could ache. 

He dropped down into a crouch, a bloodshot green-gold eye opening as the kid finally registered someone was there, trying to cringe away like a dog that had been kicked, raising his hands weakly in front of his face as a shield. Mercury absently noted that forearms didn't bend that way.

_ broken fingers dabbing water into open wounds, trying to bandage them up as dad snored downstairs, a bottle in one hand and blood on the other. biting back any sound as he tried to fix himself up so he could do it all over again tomorrow. hide, found, beating, quiet. he just wanted it to end. _

_ shaking hands with wrenched fingers did their best, but scars stayed forever.  _

_ "no self-respecting assassin uses just one hand, c'mere you little shit-" _

The crooked fingers on Mercury's right hand had never fully aligned themselves, and sometimes he could tell a storm was coming when they started to twinge.

Mercury wondered what the fuck he was gonna do now. He'd sated his curiosity. He'd seen what was going on in here.

What now?

He should leave. Before Salem found out and he ended up a heap of blood and snot like this kid. 

He should just go.

_ "you think crying out for help's gonna do anything, you fucking crybaby?" the rough smell of cheap whiskey made him gag. "ain't no one gonna hear you out here. toughen up and take it like a man." _

No one ever helped. He had to kill Dad himself.

The thought of this kid trying to do the same to Hazel punched a laugh out of him, the kid flinching bodily at the sound. 

Mercury reached for his belt, pulling out the utility knife he kept on the back, emptying his cargo pockets of the small first aid kit he'd carried everywhere, unwilling to ever part from the one thing that had been key to him making it this long. 

Oscar flinched with every sound and movement Mercury made, a streaming hiss escaping between his teeth. Mercury paused for a moment, listening, and the breathy sound turned to familiar words. 

_ "pleasepleasepleasepleasedonthurtmeplease-" _

Mercury reached out with calloused fingers and gloved hands, cutting the kid's jacket off him with efficient movements before he began shredding the ugly lump of fabric into usable strips. 

He tapped the kid's jaw, carefully keeping it light. "Oi. Eyes open, squirt. Eat this-" he shoved the white tablet at him, garbage painkillers Merc only used whenever the pain that constantly wracked through his body became bad enough that he didn't want to move.

The kid complied, something under the mess of burst blood vessels and swollen skin pulling a face at the taste. Little fucker.

Mercury didn't say anything else, not knowing what to say as he used a formerly-disgusting jacket for makeshift bandages, not bothering to give the kid a count as he wrenched a broken forearm back into place and tied it off. 

He dabbed away the blood, snot and tears, until the kid looked slightly more human and less like a butcher's slab. That big puppy dog's eye followed his movements, and the kid stopped flinching back from him. 

Mercury finished his work and put everything away, metal joints creaking from being in a crouch for so long. 

"... thank you." The kid rasped out, throat hoarse. Mercury didn't have any water to give him. Sucked for the kid. 

"Don't thank me." Mercury stood up, dusting his hands free of the mess. The kid would learn. Any time spent healing meant more shit to break the next day. Mercury was just prolonging the rest of the kid's life, probably because he was just as much of a sadist as everyone else in this hellhole. Attack dogs didn't make for healers. 

"Try pass out early next time, if you can. Might work." Didn't for Mercury, once dad copped on and started waking him up. But hey, Hazel was stupid, could work on dumb muscle like him. 

The kid looked like he was about to say something else, and Mercury walked away before he could.

_ "getting soft, boy." _

No he fucking wasn't. 

**Author's Note:**

> idk dudes, I watched the episode, talked to some friends, and this happened. Might continue if later inspo strikes, might not. 
> 
> Mercury's like, the one person who probably isn't gonna be A-Okay with a Legit Child being knocked around like a hacky sack by an 8ft giant with anger issues, and I am Manifesting 'Oscar is the Dionysus to Merc's Hermes; energy.


End file.
